


when the day met the night

by Bugggghead



Series: spend the holidays with bughead [6]
Category: Archie Comics, Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Based On A Panic! At The Disco Song, Bughead Secret Santa, F/M, Fluff, Songfic, Strangers to Lovers, background dysfunctional jones family, like barely there, more alluded to than spelled out, super duper light smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 13:37:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17581892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bugggghead/pseuds/Bugggghead
Summary: When the moon fell in love with the sunAll was golden in the skyAll was golden when the day met the night-The tale of two lost souls who find each other, and themselves, one summer on the bank of Sweetwater River.





	when the day met the night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bettsc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bettsc/gifts).



> Happy (super late) Holidays [@bettsc](https://bettsc.tumblr.com) ! It is I, [@bugheadsecretsanta's](https://bugheadsecretsanta.tumblr.com) elf here with a fluffy summer bughead fic for you! Yes, yes, I know, wrong season BUT in my defense, I do live in a state where it’s practically summer year round. That combined with your affinity for Panic! at the Disco and fluff produced this! I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Special thanks to [@shibbycat](https://shibbycat.tumblr.com) who beta’d this in record time!
> 
>  
> 
> [When the Day Met the Night by Panic! At The Disco](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eKKdy4ucD7Y)
> 
>  

 *

 

-

_When the moon fell in love with the sun_  
_All was golden in the sky_  
_All was golden when the day met the night_

-

The soft fold of the ripples skating the surface of Sweetwater River moved in time with the breeze. It ebbed around the smallest obstructions. Looking at the downed tree half sunk into the river on his right, Jughead thought about the water’s ability to flow through the mangled branches, to seep into the stump barely bracing the riverbank. It weaved in and out of every crevice it could find, slipping the bark off the tree and wearing down its resolve to stay rooted to where it once stood.

He could understand that - probably more than most if he was being honest with himself. Riverdale had been his home since the day he was born. Save for a few trips, most of his days had passed within the confines of the city’s limits. As with any small town, there were few places he could go without bumping into someone he should probably know. Having graduated just a week before, the nameless faces he’d avoided for years already blurring together into a pool of people he likely wouldn’t recognize within the year.

The river’s ability to glide along the bank unphased by time, unaffected by its surroundings was something he found solace in. All too many times when his parents voices would reach a fevered pitch, he’d find himself slipping out of the house, and another small fragment of his plan would fall into place.

After years of burying his head in the books, he was finally on the precipice of getting out of the town he never truly felt he belonged in anyways. Jughead had been accepted to nearly all of the schools he had applied to. Despite the larger than life dream to attend NYU and study in the city that never slept, the full-ride scholarship Northwestern had offered him after reading his ‘manifesto’ of sorts was too tempting to pass up. Single-handedly solving a murder at the tender age of sixteen, and chronicling each event, had given him plenty of edge over the thousands of other ‘who I’ve become’ essays.

It was strange to think he wouldn’t be sitting on the riverbank in the fall, watching the leaves fall, and drifting around the branches floating in the water. Instead, he'd be on some too green turf with a chill in the air watching as the leaves blew in the breeze. It might even be nice, he mused, the change of scenery, the opportunity to shape who they would see. Growing up in a town that’d known not only him, but his family as well better than he would’ve liked, anonymity had been out of the question. He dreamed of simply blending in, immersing himself in the sea of students, and being able to breathe in the crisp air without any lingering stares or whispers of pity. It was no secret the Jones family wasn’t perfect, but at least in Chicago, no one would have to know.

As the sun sunk, the wisps of orange and pink painting the clouds in the sky, he dreamed of being as fluid as the river, rushing into the next phase, never quite standing still, and moving forward to the wider waters that lay ahead.

-

 _When the sun found the moon_  
_She was drinking tea in a garden_  
_Under the green umbrella trees_ _  
In the middle of summer_

_-_

Another week had passed. Long summer days bled into nights permeated with the sense of what was to come. Jughead found himself walking to the river once again, the sound of his parents’ shouts fading into the distance with each heavy step he took.

Pushing past the branches of the trees and finding the well-worn footpath he’d been taking for the better part of his life, he tugged off his flannel, wrapped it around his waist, and wished they’d started fighting an hour later so it wasn’t quite as hot when he wandered down to the river.

The edge of the bank was in view as he took the last few steps, but unlike most days, the shelf of sand wasn’t empty. A girl sat against the tree. Her toes were sunk in the sand, and a book even he couldn’t identify from a distance propped against her golden legs.

He froze, debating on whether to slink back into the trees and brave the crowds at his favorite diner during the dinner rush or simply push past the treeline and sit on the opposite side of the clearing. She wasn’t doing anything scandalous, simply hiding beneath the umbrella of the tree’s shade in her suit with what looked like half-dried blonde locks tickling her shoulders.

He took a step forward, then another tentative fall of his foot as he broached the bank. She hadn’t even noticed at first, so immersed in the book he could finally decipher. Reading three little words he’d committed to his memory long ago - _In Cold Blood,_ he paused once again. The shine of the sun against her legs was distracting. They were pushed past the shade and the smallest twist of a smile was on her lips. He could tell she was lost in the world of the words, submerged in the fantasy afforded between the pages.

By the time he made it to the edge of the bank where h sunk down against a tree, and dangled his legs over the edge of a rock, she finally looked up and raised a single hand in greeting. He waved back before turning to the river, listening to the rush of the waves and closing his eyes to wait out the latest argument.

-

 _When the moon found the sun_  
_He looked like he was barely hanging on_  
_But her eyes saved his life_  
_In the middle of summer (summer)_

-

The fiery tendrils of the last lights of the day were disappearing by the second when the snap of a twig broke him from his reverie. Through the thick layer of darkness coating Fox Forest, he saw a familiar flash of blonde.

“Sorry!” she called, holding up her hands and carefully navigating through the underbrush. “I didn’t realize anyone else would be here.”

Her soft silhouette emerged from the treeline as she dropped her hands. Her smile was brighter than the full moon’s rays splashed across the sand.

“Wait, I’ve seen you before, haven't I?”

He wasn’t in the mood to talk - even with the girl he’d been thinking about for days. He nodded, gesturing to the stretch of sand next to him and turning his gaze back to the water. He considered leaving, simply getting up and walking away, but the soft lilt to her voice and visions of long legs that’d haunted him for days kept him rooted to his spot.

“I come here pretty often,” he finally offered as she slowly sat down on the sand.

“Are you,” she started, her lip turned down in one corner, and her brows knitted together, “are you okay?”

“I will be.” He turned away, looking back at the swirling steam. It was simple, but true. The summer just needed to pass day by day; exactly forty-seven of them remained before he could break free of the confines of the life he wished he hadn’t lived.

She must have sensed his tension, remaining quiet as she sat back on her elbows and stretched out her lean limbs, darkened another shade since the last time he’d seen her. He certainly didn’t have enough self-control not to look. His eyes landed on the smooth expanse of skin before tearing his gaze away and hoping she hadn’t noticed.

“I’m Betty,” she said after a long stretch of silence. “Betty Cooper, and to be perfectly honest,” she said on a sigh, shifting slightly as she turned to catch his gaze, “I’m not really in a talking mood either.”

“Jughead. Jughead Jones. Nice to meet you, Betty.”

-

 _So he said, "Would it be all right_  
_If we just sat and talked for a little while_  
_If in exchange for your time_  
_I give you this smile?"_

_-_

It became their thing - sunsets by the river several times a week. He brought her a book and she shared her worn copy of _In Cold Blood -_ margin notes and all. She told him about her summer, the friends she missed, and the family that’d been recently torn apart. She was staying with her freshly divorced father until the start of her freshman year at Berkley when she’d join her mom in California.

He could see her as a California girl, all sun and sand and lean legs stretched into the sea. She was _more_ than just that, though. Even with her collared sweaters and the ponytail he now knew to be her signature style, she was more than the flat image of some preppy blonde who used to cheer at her old high school. Though, he’d thought when she’d told him, a cheerleading outfit wasn’t an unpleasant idea in the least.

They’d sit on the bank, the space between them closing by the day as they watched the sun fall below the trees, the glow of the half moon rising in its wake.

Two weeks in, he grabbed them both Pop’s - doubled up his order and hoped she wouldn’t mind. By the end of the night, with the moon shining bright against the ripple of the waves and his cheeks sore from the smile he hadn’t been able to shake since the minute she laid her head against his shoulder, the furious countdown he’d been keeping tabs of shifted. Instead of days until something new, it became days left - hours ticking down with a clear cut off that he wasn’t sure he was ready for.

-

 _So she said, "That's OK_  
_As long as you can make a promise_  
_Not to break my little heart_  
_Or leave me all alone in the summer."_  
_Well he was just hanging around_  
_Then he fell in love_  
_And he didn't know how_  
_But he couldn't get out_  
_Just hanging around_  
_Then he fell in love_

-

With twenty days and a handful of hours left, and not a single second to spare, he’d finally kissed her. Stars were twinkling above them when his fingers slid along her jaw sinking into the loose waves she’d worn, because he’d said once how nice they were. The soft press of her lips against his, the way her body sighed as she leaned into his lips, it felt nearly surreal. Sublime in the best way. Their tongues slid together, giving and taking in equal measure as their broken breaths mingled in the small space between.

Every other night became every single one. Their time spent on the bank was marked by tangled limbs, intertwined with their lips sealed together. He never dared to ask about the day after that, or the one after that, and what it would all soon mean. Basking in her presence was as comforting as the sight of the stars he tried - and failed - to name. She’d laugh into his shoulder and point another one out, reciting its lore in her soft lilt. Sometimes he’d close his eyes and just breathe her in, savoring the scent of vanilla shampoo, and listening to the soft crash of the waves against the bank just a few feet away. Other times he’d feel every inch of her body as it pressed against his.

-

 _In the middle of summer_  
_All was golden in the sky_  
_All was golden when the day met the night_  
_Summer (summer)_  
_All was golden in the sky_  
_All was golden when the day met the night_  
_Summer, summer, summer, summer_  
_All was golden when the day met the night_

-

He’d live in a world with her laughter on loop. Betty’s sunny disposition, as it turned out, was simply for show. The bright smiles and warm words were an ingrained response, a facade she slowly dropped as they spent their final few weeks before school together. On the nights she couldn’t muster a smile, weighed down with the looming changes she tearfully told him she wasn't ready for, he’d make it his mission to make her laugh.

And he’d always appreciated a challenge.

He’d be her light on the darkest of nights, and she brightened up the corners of himself, shrouded in shadows he hadn’t even known existed.

Everyone else had seen him as he wished, the dark colored clothes and ever darker bags beneath his eyes, the downturned gaze with hands shoved deep in his pockets, and the scowl he wore in defense. They’d all added up to some sort of ‘damage’ he’d heard whispered around town for most of his life. But Betty found the bits of him tucked beneath the barrier, and pulled them out beneath the glow of the moon.

With strips of bright light shimmering between the trees, the stars brighter than he swore they’d ever been, they fumbled with their layers. His hands wandered the expanse of her skin, sliding down, and slipping into the waistband of her jeans as they laid against the blanket. The cicadas serenaded them as she sighed in his ear, her nails pressing into his shoulders, and his body alight with a need he’d never felt before.

He gave her everything he had their last night together. The dread swelling with each moment he couldn’t feel her skin beneath the tips of his fingers, couldn’t ground himself to her form. She responded in kind, with whimpers and whines.

With even breaths, laying between the blankets they’d soon need to gather, she whispered about what would come - promises of visits and holidays at home.

He knew then, as they said goodbye, as she burned bright with tears in her eyes, and muffled cries into his chest, he knew she would be his. Whether she knew it yet or not, his heart already belonged to her. When times got hard and the distance would pull at their seams, he hoped he'd be able to piece together the fragments, refracting her light, and shining adoration from half a country away.

 

-

_Summer, summer, summer, summer_  
_In the middle of summer, summer, summer, summer_  
_The middle of summer, summer, summer, summer_  
_The middle of summer, summer, summer, summer  
_ _In the middle of_

_-_

 

*

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for taking the time to read!
> 
> Comments ALWAYS appreciated! (yes, yes, i always say this but i am notoriously bad at responding wayyyy later but I love them all and i read them over and over again. i promise!)
> 
> Come find me on tumblr [@bugggghead](https://bugggghead.tumblr.com)


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